#also ty for 200 followers <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[anakindoodles]

Hero With No Fear

Kinda a redraw of this X, Kinda inspired by that bts scene from OWK of hayden training in a cape

[riaki]

after party | satoru gojo x reader

gojo wanted to help you prepare a friendsgiving dinner, but he's a little tired n a lot tipsy.

cw: non curse au, everyones alive, shoko typical smoking, drinking, you’re married to gojo wc: 3.3k

this was supposed to be short but it just spiraled n i kind of hate it b i technically posted on the 23rd so it counts !! not proofread!

business dinners with satoru are exhausting, to say the least—you start the day early to the scent of coffee through a filter and a fresh breeze through your open window, sending your husband off to work with a hug and a kiss—maybe a promise of more if he pulls the 'five more minutes!' on you.

this one is special, though; old friends from freely youthful highschool days gathered around your dinner table on the mats of your living room floor catching up over cans of beer cold with condensation, the sound of can tabs popping and the fizzling of bubbly spirits over tables of warm food in tin containers.

geto, the tall man with dark hair and gauges, talks about how his two daughters are adjusting to city life, occasionally interrupted by cheerful brightness never dampened by adult years from haibara, an apprenticing entrepeneur under nanami who's got a thing for girls with big appetites. shoko and utahime are having a drinking contest, and mei mei's too occupied with her phone; checking stocks as her tacky nails click against the glass screen.

satoru can't cook. there's a reason why he always buys takeout when you're too busy to provide or you've already gone to sleep— he should be the picture perfect husband, because you deserve that and everything more. his only (self-perceived) flaws are his lack of alcohol tolerance and his inability to master the frying pan.

you always tell him he doesn't have to be a michelin chef— but with the way he's constantly sneaking a chocolate graham cracker from your muji snack bag or snagging the sour gummy between your teeth from your lips, he feels like he should compensate. so on this special november evening, when the hum of the city life outside your balcony gets drowned out by the cheerful mirth of a warm dinner table, he had decided to help you.

the warm kitchen had become a foodstained disaster— but with tearful round eyes and a hand tugging on your shirt, you'd resigned to helping him conquer the task of simple packaged noodles and soft-boiled eggs. he'd cut his finger— even the most capable teacher found his shortcomings against a blunt kitchen knife. needless to say you'd peppered it with kisses before wrapping a rainbow hello kitty bandaid around it.

and that brings you to the present: the result of your extensively hard work; a few soggy noodles collected at the bottom of porcelain bowls painted red on the insides in a lukewarm puddle of soup, full stomachs and a loose and welcoming atmosphere. you wouldn't trade it for the world.

you're fishing a pickled radish slice out of your bowl when satoru leans over, removing the arm that was snaked around your shoulder to drape himself on your lap, lying down on the floor with his knees propped up and his soft cloud-white hair sprawled over your thighs. geto makes a distasteful face when satoru's black socks brush against his leg. across the table, shoko knocks shoulders with utahime as she lights a cigarette; the latter's face flushes as smoke drifts past her lightly flushed face into the open window city night air overhead.

"hey, you. what's up?" you asked softly, chuckling to yourself as you set your chopsticks atop the rim of your bowl, leaning back on your arms to look down at him. he adjusts himself a little, wiggling on your lap as you caught a whiff of his beer breath and scrunch your nose.

"hiii, baby," he drawls, giggling a little to himself. his smooth, usually playful voice took on that deep tone he used whenever he was being serious, and it sent an involuntary shiver down your spine, so you hugged him closer and ran a hand through his soft white hair, brushing your fingers against the black cloth of his blindfold. "what'cha doing?"

"i was eating. you put too much pepper in the broth, 'toru." you smiled softly, tracing the line of his jaw slowly with one finger in the way you knew he liked so much; it was obvious from the way he sighed contentedly and tilted his head into your palm. whether it be from that unfathomably sweet smile or the tender way you held his face in your delicate hands, that was up to him to ponder. next to you, haibara makes a joke— something about mei mei's stocks, and she quips a snarky retort that has him laughing raucously while nanami makes a face.

"i tried!" he protests, almost a whine as he sighs; a hand sneaks up to lift the edge of his blindfold up so his eyes meet yours, and you're left breathless. it catches you off guard every time— those endless pools of swirling blue that stare straight through you, sifting through your thoughts like a scholar annotating an open book, all heart-shaped sticky notes and bright highlighters when it came to thinking about him.

"not hard enough, clearly. but it's okay; we'll do better next time."

he just frowns again at that, sticking out his lower lip in a little pout that makes your heart squeeze. your stomach is full with noodles and broth; you don't think you could stomach another bite if you tried, and you're not one to drink especially if everyone else is. so, you let yourself indulge a little— snake a hand on the back of satoru's neck and tilt him up until he's sitting halfway up and you can easily meet his lips in a kiss.

he reciprocates immediately, hungry like he was waiting for you; you notice that he hasn't eaten much of his food yet, so maybe he was. or maybe he knows how bad it is. either way, his tongue darts out from his parted lips to flick against your own for a moment, before he sinks his teeth into your bottom lip and draws out a teasing whine that you have to stifle because "we have company, 'toru," you have to breath as a reminder. he just laughs breathily against your lips, tasting like bitter beer and buttery vanilla as he shifts to practically sit on top of you, hands on your shoulders as his thumbs brush over your collarbone where the edge of your shirt fails to cover tantalizing skin; he's taller and eventually ends up bringing the both of you toppling down onto the mats.

your back hits the floor and a little gasp leaves your winded lungs— but satoru eagerly catches it with his lips and swallows it, like he's intent on getting drunken off his ass from you (as if he wasn't already tipsy) when he smashes his swollen lips to yours again. your hair is splayed out against the tatami mats like you're trapped in some marine watercolor painting, and for a split second satoru thinks if mermaids were real you'd be the most angelic he'd ever seen as his calloused fingers curl into the strands.

you're about to hook a leg around his waist when a shout catches your ear and you part lips with a gasp, sucking in greedy breaths as satoru promptly sits on your stomach. you let out a stuffed oomph from his weight, and watch as he slides his blindfold back on to look over at the rest of the table who're staring at the two of you like they're watching some forbidden steamy movie scene that's meant to be shielded from children's eyes.

“don’t kiss him while he’s drunk. it’s like rewarding a brat for bad behavior,” shoko says. you sit up with much effort, straining under satoru’s weight as you reach up to grab his shoulders. you miss, but he takes your hands and pulls you up, wrapping his arms around you to keep you from falling back down as you rest your head on his shoulder. utahime has her arms lazily draped over shoko; you assume she’s drunk from that, but if you were to inspect her for long enough you’d notice her can of beer was almost completely full.

“oh, i guess you’re right.” you remarked, frowning a little and biting the inside of your cheek as you pull away from satoru and glance at him. all of the sudden he looks like he’s ready to keel over; the shadows beneath his eyes are reinforced by the alcohol in his system and it looks like he’ll need to tape his eyes open lest he passes out right on top of you. you want to avoid that, so you gently push him off, sighing to yourself.

“don’t listen to her, sweetheart. you can kiss me all you want,” he smirks, a flash of pearly white teeth that would’ve been on your neck a moment ago if not for the interruption. you just shake your head with a breathless laugh, giving him a quick flick to the forehead. before you can pull away, though— he catches your hand, bringing your wrist to his glossy pink lips and giving your pulse a quick peck. “no, she has a point.” you hummed. overhead, the light flickers a little; a moth that had flown in through the window danced about the bulb. the faint sound of car horns filters through the window along with the breeze, recycled laughter and lively chatter from bars a few stories down carried in the cool wind.

you mill about for another twenty minutes or so, content to just listen in as old friends shared anecdotes and funny stories from separate paths of life; you soon learned that nanami was planning on moving to malaysia, and shoko was due to renew her medical license this year. the beer cans built up, mixed in with crumpled napkins that had penned doodles on the rough surface and paper chopstick wrappers. somewhere along the line, satoru had fallen asleep— you had to push his unfinished ramen bowl out of the way before he knocked his head against the wooden table and spilt his meal. you frowned a little at the sight of it— you knew he'd complain about his soaked noodles and limp seaweed sheets later on. you found yourself slinging one of your jackets over his shoulders, fingers lingering over his neck, where the scratchy hair of his undercut met soft warm skin.

soon enough, dishes are piling up in the sink and calling your name; the kids see themselves home via train station, spouting something about a late night pit stop in sendai for the mochi that 'our teacher likes so much'. you consider asking them to bring some back for satoru, but you decide you'll enjoy a laugh when he tells you about how he went to school the next morning to find out for himself, and the stab of hurt that will pierce his full heart in two when he hears the news. even then, you have to shush them as they show themselves out; you can tell from the way satoru's eyebrows knit together beneath his blindfold and the pinch of his jaw that he doesn't appreciate the noise, no matter how blacked out.

the conversation dies down a little, and soon enough, everyone takes their leave one by one. it's only when you settle back down after cleaning up the bowls and putting away the cups that satoru stirs, waking up with a mumble and a huff. his hair is a disheveled mess, and there are sleep lines on his face, but he's still handsome as ever.

"baby?" his voice is hoarse with sleep and dehydration. there's a dull ache between his eyes, feeling like he'd just ran a circle around the world. you answer from the kitchen, calling his name. it's late; past midnight now. the window's still open and satoru's can of beer is still on the table, almost completely empty.

"how long did i sleep? shit, did everyone go home? 'm sorry," he groans, standing up and stretching his arms out. his shirt rides up on his shoulders, exposing the arch of his hip just above the edge of his pants. "don't worry, 'toru." you hummed, washing your hands in the sink as you look over at him. he just nods, grabbing the can and crumpling it in his hands before tossing it in the trash.

"you okay? got a headache?" you asked as he walked over to you, careful not to hit his head on the arch that connected the living room to the kitchen. when you'd first moved in with him, you had to pin a strip of bright yellow caution tape to remind him to duck his head. you smiled as you reminisced over late nights, tucked in his arms as he mused about demolishing the wall there just so he could be rid of the bruise on his temple. then again, as long as you were waiting for him to kiss it better at the end of his nine to five, he didn't mind.

he nods, and watches as an easy smile stretches across your lips; they look infuriatingly kissable under the warm glow of the hazy kitchen light, shining off the porcelain cups in the sink. he leans against the kitchen counter, cold marble feeling through the thin fabric of his shirt as you take his leftovers from the fridge and heat them up in the microwave, standing before the black glass as you watch the little plate spin inside.

there's something about moments like these; so sweet and easy with you after everyone's taken the last train home and all that's left are empty beer cans and extra bowls in the dishwasher for two people with matching rings on their fingers to take care of.

he walks up to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head on your chin. he smiles when he feels your hand cup his cheek, and he turns his head instinctively to meet your lips in a slow, sweet kiss; a muscle memory tango between familiar lovers. when he pulls away to catch his breath, tongue swiping across his bottom lip, you're already there with your fingers, pulling his blindfold down to rest around his neck and gently rubbing the spot beside his eyes, alleviating the tension behind them. it's unspoken moments like these that he loves the most in your relationship. making a mess in your kitchen is a close second.

it's a slow, easy night after a special get-together when the microwave beeps and you take his noodles out, bringing them to the table as you sit down next to him and rest your head on his shoulder, letting him tuck you into his side as he gets a bit of breaded tonkotsu crumbs on his cheek and insists you wipe them off for him like he's some oversized baby. you wash some cherries in a green plastic bowl, competing to see who can spit the pits into the trashcan without missing. in the end, he lost the game of rock paper scissor and was resigned to pick up the missed pits on the floor.

he's still wearing your jacket like a cape and even though it's far too small for him, he insists on keeping it with him when you go out onto your balcony to finish the last of a bottle of sake together, listening to the melody of the wind in the trees that line the sidewalk and the permeating hustle and bustle of the city, even when it's so late at night it could be considered early morning.

he swipes the cold bottle from your hands, finishing the last drops from the matte glass before letting it dangle between your fingers. and you're expecting it when he catches your arm to pull you into another kiss; he tastes like peaches and wine and a little bit of soup broth. it's slow, and easy, because being with him has always felt as natural as breathing, and being with you has made it easier for him to breathe, like the iron weight on his lungs melts away in the face of your unconditional warmth and care. the cool wind blows your hair in front of your face, and he laughs that charming boyish giggle as he tucks it behind your ears and scoops you up in his arms.

"i don't like sharing you with a sake bottle," you said, pointedly looking at the glass in his hand. he just grins, looking down at you for a moment. he can almost see it again; you, in that gorgeous white wedding cloth. he was carrying you bridal style in the same way now, when you'd decided to grow old together and host special business dinners as a couple in your shared apartment.

"don't worry, love. you're sweeter than any spritz," he laughs, stepping inside again and closing the door behind him.

it's routine, and it's easy, getting ready for bed with him, laughing when he pushes his hair back with a headband, looking like a pretty little princess. you suggest him getting a mullet, and he shushes you by shoving your toothbrush on your tongue, getting a mouthful of mint. the warm water rushes over your fingers before you dry yourself off, wiping your face and putting the towel away only to be met with the equal warmth of his lips on your forehead, peppering you with kisses.

you slip into the covers, still pleasantly cold as you watch satoru sit up and take his shirt off. he lets you peel the rainbow bandaid on his finger off, tossing it in the trash before pulling you into his arms, right where you belong the closest to his heart. "don't cut yourself like that again, okay?"

"it was an accident, baby." he chuckles, and you just roll your eyes. he reaches over to ruffle your hair affectionately and makes a joke about having you suck his blood like a vampire, tooting about how sweet it would be. "besides, i don't need to be careful if you're there to patch me up, pretty. shoko has nothing on you!"

he plays with your hair as you catch him up to the conversations he'd slept away; mei mei had left early when you'd given him your jacket to envelope him in your scent, muttering something about cheap perfume and worthless soggy noodles. he likes to play with your jewelry, you notice— fiddles with the ring on your finger, cupping your hands in his palm as he tucks his face into the back of your neck.

at one point, he asks you to do his hair, so you oblige, rolling him over onto his stomach and clambering on top of his waist. you braid his white strands into cute little pigtails best as you could manage as he tells you about his dream; something about harassing nanami in malaysia and a sunset kiss under crystal clear beach water. it sounds nice, and when you're done with his hair you find it easier to just massage his shoulders and listen to the smooth droning of his voice.

soon enough, you're both warmer than the lukewarm buzz of beer in your veins, and he doesn't remember if he fell asleep first or not, but the gentle melody of your voice haunts him in his dazed sleep as he curls around you.

business dinners really are exhausting— he's left wondering how you pull it off the morning after when he's hungover and the cut on his finger is infected— clearly, the hello kitty bandaid wasn't enough to cut it. the only reasoning that he explains to you as you take your morning shower together, fingers running through your hair, is that you didn't kiss it enough. maybe that's why his soup had too much pepper and he didn't know how to cut the cucumbers.

he's still an amateur, so he'll leave the cooking to you. maybe next time he'll pretend the takeout he grabbed on his way home from school was handmade, though he doubts his friends will ever believe him, or his students after he demands they buy him kikufuku as compensation for leaving him out the night before.

ignore the ep that came out today! everyone’s alive and well. trust my (riaki) stuff. don’t repost and/or plagiarize !

[necrotic-nephilim]

i love your fics and the ideas you describe for the ask games. i'm especially fond of your takes on the rarer pairings and i always smile when i see your posts in the ship tags <3

and don't stress too much about not posting anything, real life is important and participating in fandom should be fun, not something you have to force yourself to do. god knows fandom burnout is real, especially if you feel like people are expecting something from you. just keep doing what makes you happy :)

ghgfhgjhkjhjhg this was so sweet, thank you so much! i *love* talking about rarer rarepairs, especially if it gets other people to ship them too. the popular ships are fun and all, but i truly love spreading rarepair propaganda.

that's very reassuring, thank you <3 i've loved everything i posted here so far and have not felt pushed to post anything i haven't enjoyed, but sometimes i forget i can like. use this blog for whatever i want and not *just* headcanons/fics/mets/etc lol. and i also forget i don't have to rush myself. it's annoying to want to write and either not have time or not have the words work. i used to run a fandom blog in my teens that got very large and felt like a chore and i was so stressed about the need to perform and the numbers and all of that. like if a fic didn't do well i saw it as a personal failing and forced myself to write popular headcanons just for the numbers game. was not fun or sustainable in the long run and i think it contributed to me no longer having any taste for the ship i primarily wrote for. so for too long i treated existing in fandom like a job lol. i've mostly gotten it through to myself that this is a space for me, but i occasionally forget when i'm so caught up in all the things i want to get to for this blog. my to-write list is a mile long and i need to be bonked with a paper towel roll, i think. so it's very kind of you to say this bc the reminder is nice <3

[deusfoundry]

hihi!! first of all i wld like to congratulate u on 200 and say that ive been following u for a bit now and im??? absolutely obsessed with ur writing omg???? and also if it's alright id like to request number 8 with zayne for ur 200 followers event please and ty!! <3

welcome home kisses with zayne

a/n: HII thank u sosoo much for ur kind words (saw the 2nd ask u sent ehe) and for sending this req in!! now im . gonna be honest the kiss itself ended up not being the star of this drabble and for that im so sorry 😭 but i hope u still like it!! <3

zayne comes home to his apartment shrouded in pitch black darkness.

his arm rests against the wall, one hand reaching out blindly to turn on the lights in the foyer and the other moving to take his shoes off. he loosens the tie around his neck, slips off his jacket and the weight seemingly sewn into it. exhaustion from back to back surgeries settles within his bones. it's there, in the cracking of his joints and the faint, almost unnoticeable cramp of his muscles.

and yet, zayne has only one thing on his mind as he wades past the living room. his sock-clad feet take quiet, measured steps over the wooden floor, only stopping to briefly pet your cat when he feels her paw at the loose thread of his socks.

he pushes the door of your shared bedroom open.

the curtains are pulled halfway to each side. moonlight streams through glass windows, casting its soft rays at your sleeping form. it's almost as if you're drowning. in the hazy moonshine. in silk sheets and the warmth of the blanket pulled up to your waist. in the fabric of his shirt, so loose that it hangs off your shoulder to reveal a tempting patch of skin.

zayne approaches you, crouching down until he's leveled with your face. immediately, like it's a force of habit, his hand gravitates to move a cluster of hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear. the knuckle of his index finger brushes against your cheek, and the slightest touch of skin sends a chill down his spine.

his eyes travel across your face steadily in silent admiration, from your chapped lips to the bridge of your nose. from the fat of your cheeks to your stilled lashes under closed eyelids.

and that's where he notices it, the bags beneath your eyes staring right back at him. it serves as a painful reminder of how he's left you to fall asleep to an empty bed again.

his hand flies to the side, palms running up and down the length of your arm, the way he always does on days when you mirror the skies painted gray, yet they're free of rain. when tears are absent from the corner of your eyes, but you're in need of comfort all the same.

he leans in, the ghost of his lips over yours, and whispers an apology so quiet it fails to echo within the dead silence of the room.

"what are you saying sorry for?"

zayne freezes as you begin to stir to life.

he snaps out of his daze when you make a move to sit up. using the combined strength of your limp arms and his assistance, you lean back on the headboard of your bed. you stare at him, just barely through your squinted but curious eyes.

"i came home late again, i'm sorry."

zayne sees the brief moment of shock that courses through you, watches the way it's overtaken by a fond smile almost immediately. you scoot to the side, patting the space just wide enough for him to sit down. he doesn't waste a moment in following your little command.

you lean forward, dragging your body across the sheets until zayne finds himself just a hair away from your face.

when you're this close, zayne can do nothing but stare in awe at how your eyes shine brighter than the sun. at how someone who could hold the entire galaxy in the tiniest specks of their eyes could look at him with so much love.

"i don't care about that." you bring your hand up to his cheek, dragging your knuckle against his skin the same way he does for you. you move until your palm finds his jaw, using it as leverage to push yourself up.

zayne is pulled into a kiss that's so sweet, so tender in the way your lips move against his in slow, unhurried drags, a feeling strikes within his chest that's almost painful and certainly pleasant.

"all that matters to me is that you're home."

dividers by @cafekitsune

[emilys-bangs]

Orion - #14 “I can’t believe you remembered.” I think Emily would remember the smallest details about the ones she’s closest to but gets surprised when someone does the same for her. Could really go any way! Could I just request some fluff for it though? Happy 200 followers! ❤️

Anon you are so so sososo right, ty for requesting <3 I’m so behind in finishing these but whatever I really loved the way this one turned out :) reader is down so bad (me)

Part of the 200 celebration

Word count: 0.9k

In all honesty, you don’t even know what makes you do it. It could be the crisp air, or the warm scent of just-baked pastries lifting your mood, making your shoulders go loose and light before you head to the BAU. 

But really, you think it’s the coffee. Freshly brewed and bitterly dark; it reminds you of a pair of eyes ringed with thick lashes, wide under feathery bangs that dip into the crevice between manicured brows. 

Just the thought of your coworker brings a heat to your body. You flush under your coat, hands clammy and warm as you reach the counter and order one coffee for you, one hot chocolate with extra cinnamon for Emily.

“And can I have two of those croissants?” You point to the pain au chocolates, thinking there’s no point in handing her a sweet drink without also getting anything to eat. Emily mentioned it a while back, when the two of you were on a stakeout. On cool fall mornings—any mornings, really, but especially those—she prefers a hot chocolate over a coffee, something sweet to give her that rush when the sun is just barely off the horizon. It wasn’t really surprising to hear—she has a sweet tooth to rival a young child’s. That said, you almost never see her with a cup in her hand; she comes in, almost every day, just a few minutes before what could be technically considered late.

You have a sinking suspicion that even if she did end up crossing the line one day, a pointed heel accidentally slipping over it, she’d be able to slither her way out of a reprimand, charming and sly. After all, it’s easy to fall prey to the entrancing curve of her lips, the half moons of her dimples gently digging their heels in ivory cheeks. 

The yell of your name breaks you out of your unwarranted daydreams. You blink and find yourself back in the warm bakery, enveloped in the scent of sugar and coffee beans.

God, you need to stop thinking about her.

Which proves difficult when you’re carrying her an armful of breakfast, a smile tingling at the corners of your lips whenever you catch your name scrawled on her paper cup. Pressing the elevator buttons is a struggle, but it’s one you don’t mind as you rise up to the sixth floor and something far more interesting than paperwork.

It’s only when you approach yours and Emily’s joint desks that you remember the others. Morgan and Reid lounge in their chairs, bickering about something you’re sure is too early to bicker about. JJ seems to be locked in her own office, but your stomach preemptively twists in knots at the thought of them seeing the handoff, your hands empty of treats for them.

You inhale a deep breath and keep your eyes forward, not chancing a glance at anyone but Emily, who looks up with a smile when she sees you approach. Distantly, you think it’s unusual that she’s here so early, but the thought evaporates when her eyes brighten.

“Morning,” she says, and her voice is already smooth honey, warm and inviting as you approach. Her eyes drop to the cup holder in your hand, the paper bag gripped between your fingers. “Got anything for me in there?” She teases.

Oh, only if you knew.

“Actually I do,” you smile, irrationally proud at the way her brows lift in surprise. Finally reaching her desk, you set down the cup holder and loosen your grip on the paper bag. “Got you breakfast.” You say softly, almost hoping to keep the words between you and her.

Emily’s mouth parts. For a moment she stares, almost in shock, before regaining her composure. 

“Thank you.” She says sincerely. Her eyes are piercing on yours, then trailing over your jaw and cheeks, in search of a reason, no doubt. “You didn’t have to.”

You hum, dropping your gaze before you confess your love. “Yeah, I know. Here,” you pluck out the heavier paper cup from its holder, “it’s hot chocolate.”

Emily’s smile turns incandescent. “It is?” She gasps softly, her pupils blown wide. Her irises turn to thin rings, her voice dulcet and warm, almost as sweet as the drink in her hand.

Your heart flutters.

“It is. You said you like hot chocolate in the mornings.” You say quietly. Somehow, the words sound like I love you. “Uh, thought it’d go well with the croissants,” you mumble, but Emily is still hung up on the chocolate.

“I can’t believe you remembered.” She whispers, her fingers tightening around the cup like it’s something precious.

You shrug and take the opportunity to shed your coat. Heat simmers under your skin, crawls up your jaw and to your ears. “You remember stuff about me all the time,” you say, taking your load and your coat over to your own desk. Pretending like it’s no big deal. Like you don’t want to get her hot chocolate every day, just to see the shine in her eyes.

Emily looks down. She chews on her lip as she pops open the lid, a flush spreading over her pale cheeks. You blink in surprise, thinking you’d imagined it, but the blush remains firm, staining her skin a soft, rosy pink.

“Oh, c’mon, hey.” A voice breaks through the silence. You distantly identify it as Morgan, but you’re too busy tracing the blush with your eyes. “None for us?” He asks; you’re not sure how serious he is.

Emily looks up. Her eyes meet yours, expectant. You look away and clear your throat, swallowing down butterflies as they rise from your stomach. 

“Nope.”

taglist: @suckerforcate @sickoherd @lextism @catssluvr @i-lovefandom @haiklya @justhereforthosefics @storiesofsvu@ashluvscaterina @basicallyvivi

[tinyperson00]

150 followers special ✨

I have decided that since I never actually thought I’d even get to 100 followers, that I shall hold a special event!

because of all the love and support you people have given me I feel like I should give some back..

I’m gonna hold a raffle type event for all of my followers to have a chance to win in :D

Event details:

• Anyone who is currently following has the ability to enter in the game

• in order to enter, simply like this post, reblog it, or comment

• deadline to enter is a week from now, September 6

• there will be 1st through 5th place winners, each getting a special prize

• winners will be selected by the all mighty wheel of names once the deadline hits

About prizes:

Since I am an artist, and that is probably how most of you followed me in the first place, the prizes will consist of certain types of drawings or works

upon winning, I will ask you to dm me what you would like me to draw

The drawing cannot be: nsfw, suggestive, too complex or difficult, etc.

Placing:

First place: fully rendered drawing, full body (if you want), and fully rendered background

Second place: fully rendered drawing, waist and up, and light background

Third place: fully rendered drawing, waist and up, and background color

Fourth place: shaded drawing, bust, background color

fifth place: themed color drawing, bust, background color

examples below:

Extra:

• I am slightly more busy with school starting, so the prizes will most likely take a day or so each to be done

• I’m also gonna start holding raffles every new 50 followers (200, 250, 300, etc.)

• ty everyone for the support you’ve given me! I genuinely never thought I’d get this far on here

• feel free to Dm me with any questions or concerns :3

[littlemissmanga]

hi! saw your 200 word blurbs requests!

can I get #9 or #1 with Jesse? whatever floats your boat, I’m sure I’ll enjoy it either way!

thanks for considering!!

Send me one of the following for a 200 word clone drabble

Nonnie!!!! I did NOT forget about you! I had this in my drafts and I thought I had posted it. Thank you so much for your patience!!

As much as Jesse would love to see you in his shirt, I haven't done No. 9 yet, and I think it's time someone got tied up.

Pairing: Jesse x gn!Reader

W/C: 828 (I did not hold back on this even a little bit and I'm not sorry at all).

Warnings: M, Juicy Jesse being himself. Talk of bondage, filthy desperation, just absolute filth and sin, but no action. just the promise cause I'm a horrible tease :) Minors DNI

Divider by @samspenandsword <3

Also, this functions as a pt 2 to the Jesse kiss prompt :)

Dinner was only half done. The table still wasn’t set. You hadn’t even changed into the cute outfit you bought just for tonight. But with the way Jesse was kissing you, you doubted any of that mattered to him.

It’s his fault for not calling, anyway.

So, you decided not to let it bother you, either. You melted into his kiss, molding your lips to his as his gloved hands slid underneath your shirt, the rough fabric scraping deliciously across your skin. The rough stubble of his jaw chafing your lips and chin, but each scratch just fueled your need. The burn was a constant reminder, even when he pulled away to pant against you, that he was here. Home. Safe.

“Bed. Now,” he barked, his command only undercut by the breathlessness of his voice. Your stomach swooped at the total control he kept over himself, even as his need became evident. You planned on making him a little needier.

He was so fun when he lost control. And you wanted to be taken for a ride tonight.

With a flirty smile, you quickly shut off the stove, Jesse’s presence looming behind you, silently urging you to move faster. He was at his limit, and you loved it. Now he needed to bring you to yours.

You took his hand and pulled him into your room, letting go and slipping your shirt over your head. You turned away from him to face your bed to strip off your pants as you heard his armor falling to the floor.

Waiting …

Any moment now …

A low growl rumbled from behind you as a warm, bare chest pressed to your back. You held your breath to stop the shiver from racing down your spine.

“Mesh’la?” His tone was unnaturally calm considering, and you knew you wouldn’t be walking much tomorrow.

“Yes, baby?”

“Why is there rope next to the bed?” Jesse asked as if inquiring about the color of the bedsheets, nipping lightly at the tops of your shoulders.

“Oh, that.” Your Cheshire grin had taken over your face as you turned in Jesse’s grasp. “I wanted to do something special to welcome you home.”

The Republic cog tattoo on his forehead shifted as he raised a cocky eyebrow. “And you’re planning on tying me up?”

“Hm, maybe. If you’re good,” you tease, giving the tip of his nose a gentle peck and earning a chuckle from him. “But actually, you said something on our last call …”

Tilting the tone at the end of the last word, you let your voice fade, the embarrassment of actually saying what you had in mind stealing your words. You looked at him expectantly, hoping your smart ARC trooper would remember the words he let slip so casually that had you teasing yourself in his absence several times over the past few days.

Jesse’s eyes — the ones you insisted were the “kindest in the GAR” despite being shared by so many others — sparkled with mischief.

“Go on, gorgeous. Tell me.”

He wasn’t going to go easy on you. Not that you really wanted him to. You could already feel yourself getting wet at being forced to admit your desires.

“You said you …” You paused and leaned forward to bury your face in his neck, taking in the scent of regulation soap and sweat that was uniquely your Jesse. Liking it or not, you still weren’t able to look at him directly just yet. “You said you can’t wait to see how many times you can get me to come.”

You damn near purred as his arms came around you, holding you nice and tight as his hand traced your spine.

“I did. And I plan on finding out tonight,” Jesse promised in a low voice, his lips right next to your ear. “But that doesn’t explain the rope.”

You nestled closer, running your tongue wide and wet over his Adam’s apple. You felt his cock twitch against you through his blacks.

“If I’m tied up, I can’t pull away.”

Jesse spat a curse as he lifted you and tossed you roughly onto the bed. In a flash, he was on top of you, pinning you beneath him. He reached between you to run a single, thick finger along the seam of your underwear, making you writhe against him.

“Oh yeah, can’t have you squirming now, can we?” He teased, but you couldn’t answer as his finger pressed harder against you. “You wanna be all tied up like a pretty present for me so I can thoroughly ruin you?”

You nodded frantically, delighting in the wicked smile that spread over his face. Jesse leaned to the side, grabbing the rope and pulling it through his hands just to see your eyes widen at the sight.

“Well, then. Let’s get started.”

Taglist: @dreamie411 @wings-and-beskar @starrylothcat @blueink-bluesoul @wolffegirlsunite @secondaryrealm

[prentissluvr]

hiiii tysm everyone for 200+ followers!! so happy to have gained a few new folks these days!! is anyone interested in a milestone event?! it'll likely have two different options (drabbles and maybe moodboards--still deciding the second one). i actually have a fun idea for milestones as this blog continues to grow so yeah hehe i'll explain it later.

leaving this open for a week but i'll decide within a couple days, ty for voting <3 reminders that regular requests are also open!

[drifting-pieces-blog-blog]

Breaking down the comics: BEMIS. Part 3

READING THINGS SO YOU DON'T HAVE TO! 

Part one is here. 

Part two is here.

Part 2: Phases. (Issues 194-200) Published: August 29, 2018

Written by Max Bemis. 

Art by Jacen Burrows, Paul Davidson, and Ty Templeton

Editor: Jeff Youngquist

“Moon Knight couldn’t be in better hands”???? Excuse me comicbook.com? I don’t know who wrote that but… I’d like to have some words with them. 

Also, I’d like to note that at the end of a few issues, they have Kight Mail. This is something that was started way back in Moench’s run. Fans would write in and they got posted at the end of comics! It showed what they thought of current issues, what they wanted to see, and sometimes they even posted criticism of changes. It was a way to connect to fans and for the writers to feel appreciated or to ask what they wanted to see. 

Looking through the fan mail of Bemis’ work in vol one was interesting. All HIGH praises and excitement to see them make Moon Knight dark and gritty. I can’t help but wonder about the demographics of the people writing in at this time. Many of them said they had been long time fans of Bemis’ band “Say Anything”. Which makes me raise an eyebrow. 

Now, looking at the first issue of Vol 2. 

Still written by BEMIS. 

I want to rewind a bit and touch on something that’s going to be VERY important in this next upcoming issue. 

Remember how I mentioned that Bemis self identifies as "A Jew who is also a Christian"? Not a lot of people know what that means. It’s also been known as “Jews for Jesus” and Messianic Jewish religious movement.  

Messianic Jews are a branch off of Evangelical Protestants. 

"They adhere to conventional Christian Beliefs, including the concept of salvation through faith in Jesus (who they refer to as Yeshua by the Hebrew name) as the Jewish Messiah and savior from sin." 

I'm not going to get into religious politics or a lot of history here (I'd be here all day)... But if you have even the SMALLEST knowledge about Judaism, you'll feel a creeping sensation along your spine. 

The word moshiach (messiah) at its roots meant a leader to the people, not a savior deity. Not a god. It meant that a great king would arise or someone that could lead the people in peace. 

So when the Torah mentions the moshiach (messiah), it is referring to a human being that would come to the Jewish people and became a leader, politically usually, who would help Jews and all people thrive in peace.

The "Jews for Jesus" movement is a way to convert Jewish people to Christianity under the guise of still being Jewish. But the problem is that you are either Jewish or you aren't. If you convert to any other religion, you are no longer Jewish. It is a movement meant to recruit more power to the Evangelical Christianity side of things while also removing Jews away from Judaism. 

You see, Judaism is a people first and foremost. These people have been killed over and over and over again by so many different countries, religious sects, and political followings. A lot of the major movements (see Spanish Inquisition for more history on that) were not just genocidal, but culturally genocidal with forced conversions. Numerous times, the traditions and culture was almost completely wiped out. 

Because of this, there are a lot of VERY strict rules in place to try to save the culture and Jewish religion. One of those rules is that if you convert, you are no longer considered of the Jewish people. You are no longer considered able to speak on their behalf. This may seem confusing and harsh to some Christians or other people that are not Jewish. Perhaps I’m not the one to best explain that to you, but if someone repeatedly tried to kill you and wipe your memory and existence off the face of the planet, then a buddy decided to go join them, would you want that buddy to be able to say “Oh yeah, I know all about how it works. Let me speak for them.”? 

They tend to target new converts to Judaism, lonely jews, depressed jews, or at risk Jewish people. They invite them in saying that they want to be friends and to help them celebrate holidays and so on. Then they work on convincing them to convert. 

It's scarily like how a cult works. 

A "Jew for Jesus" is not a Jew. I don't care what their background growing up is, they no longer have the right to claim to understand the Jewish people or any of that. 

So having BEMIS come into Marvel and saying “I can write a Jewish system! I’m Jewish, after all! Representation!” is the biggest load of crap and honestly, it’s almost a hate crime. ….And after reading Vol 2, it WILL be a hate crime. You’ll see. 

Aside from the return of Bemis, there is a new artist named Ty Templeton. Templeton only draws for this next issue, which covers the creation of Moon Knight as a child. Then we head back to Burrows. 

And Cover artist Becky Cloonan. 

I feel bad because this was Becky Cloonan's first time as a cover artist. 

Despite the story, that is some AMAZING art. 

Issue #194

That’s nice. Looking at that kinda makes you excited right? A story about young Marc! Last time we got young Marc was a few flashbacks in Lemire and I adored those. I’d kill for more of that. 

Alright... Opening up, we have the title page that gives you the "previously" blerb. 

"Marc Spector recently fought through a gauntlet of enemies old and new as the Sun King joined with Bushman and the Truth to attempt to destroy Moon Knight and everything he held dear, including the daughter he never knew he had. Spector overcame the odds and defeated the Sun King, but now faces an even greater challenge: Fatherhood." 

Hmm. Sure. Okay. It's not terrible. Maybe....Maybe this issue will be okay. It’s a false sense of security. A little beam of hope. 

We see Marc and Frenchie at a table having drinks and chatting. 

I do deeply enjoy the idea of Frenchie coming back as a friend. Not as a loyal devoted pilot, but as a much needed actual friend to Marc. Marc has only ever just had Frenchie. 

They're chatting it up. Frenchie asked him if he could have had any job in the world, what would he have liked to have done if he wasn't a mercenary. 

Marc says he wanted to be creative. Aww. 

Frenchie tells him he'd have made a handsome actor. 

But Marc say sno, he wanted to be something creative. "There's a lot going on up here." He points to his head. "Stuff I could express without, you know...Beating people half to death. I'd be fat ad happy and soft." 

I mean, that's a pretty good Marc sentiment. And looking back at Lemire's childhood depiction of Marc, it fits. He wanted to do so many things... 

This is starting out as a pretty good issue. I like the art more (still a little flat, but it’s a coloristic style).  Not nearly as bad as-

Ah. 

Okay, so... I... I'm gonna take a very long breath here because we are about to go down a rabbit hole of SEVERE antisemitism. 

This is your only trigger warning. Same warnings as in Vol 1. I’m also going to cut a LOT of art out and just describe it to you. It is going to get disgusting. 

We are getting the story from Marc's narration as he talks to Frenchie about why he thinks being Jewish is the reason behind all his trauma. 

That's now what he said, but it is what is being heavily implied. 

Bemis just straight up said "Being Jewish is traumatizing and life would be better if I wasn't." 

And coming from a "Jew for Jesus", you know he full on believes this and follows it. 

And this is going to get VERY uncomfortable. 

MOON KNIGHT HISTORY LESSON REFRESHER: 

Moench didn't intentionally write Moon Knight as Jewish. 

He picked a name and found out it was of Jewish origins and he thought "Yeah. That sounds good." and rather than ignore it, he went with it full heartedly. 

He outright said "Marc is Jewish. The system is Jewish. Moon Knight is a Jewish Comic." 

He touched on a lot of heavy themes that in one way or another tended to cycle back around to Jewish issues at the time (1980s.) Moench tended to write about what he was seeing in the world around him and it is done with such care and grace that we can still feel those movements and issues when we re-read it today. His message is never lost. 

It wasn't until Zelenetz took over the run that we really got any of Marc's backstory, though. 

Zelentz, a man from a Jewish background who taught in a Jewish school, made Marc's father a Jewish Orthodox Rabbi from Czech who fled the Holocaust and Nazi invasion. 

Under NO CIRCUMSTANCE was it ever implied that this or any of that upbringing had anything to do with his DID. 

In later issues, deep into the 90s and far away from Moech and Zelentz, mostly when talking about his brother, he mentions that his father was very strict and had a lot of rules. 

Some writers even hint at some abuse from his father, especially towards Randall Spector. But this conflicts with Zelentz, who stressed that Marc's biggest issue with his father was that he was too passive. 

In Lemire, we see another reimagining of Marc's father and see him as a bit more modern day and very concerned about his son's mental health and what others might think of him. 

We still don't see the trauma that happened and it doesn't even pretend to hint at it. 

I'll cover Marc's trauma in a completely different post much later, but not knowing Marc's trauma and past is a good thing. 

But people are curious and they wanted to know. They wanted to know what caused the DID and where Moon Knight came from. 

So Bemis thought "I used to be Jewish. Who better to answer this question than me?" 

(Anyone. The answer is anyone is better than you, Bemis.) 

So we see a bunch of stereotypically Jewish men sitting around a table. They are enjoying some wine after a meal and there are a LOT of books behind them. I'm going to assume they are in a Synagogue and this is a temple gathering. 

The artist here CLEARLY tried to copy and feed off of Smallwood. Perhaps in an effort to establish to the reader that we are looking at the same people and this is how the characters now look in cannon. 

I can appreciate that. 

So we recognize little Marc Spector and Elias Spector. 

We know Elias is a Rabbi and Rabbi like to gather with other Rabbi to discuss things and share knowledge. 

So I'm going to take a wild stab here that this is a group of Rabbi or other learned men in close proximity to the Rabbi. 

"Let me explain. I'd have to start with Rabbi Yitz Perlman, the funniest guy I've ever met in my life. 

You know when you're a kid and a grown-up is making grown-up jokes you don't really understand, but they're still so funny you almost Pee?" 

We see Rabbi Yitz making a joke that cracks everyone up. 

I had to look this one up because the joke flew over my head. Apparently it's an old joke and Bemis did NOT tell it right. 

Here is how the joke is really supposed to go: 

A Jewish father was troubled by the way his son turned out, and went to see his Rabbi about it. "I brought him up in the faith, gave him a very expensive bar mitzvah, cost me a fortune to educate him. Then he tells me last week he has decided to be a Christian! Rabbi, where did I go wrong?" "Funny you should come to me," said the Rabbi. "Like you, I brought *my* boy up in the faith, put him through University, cost me a fortune, then one day he, too, tells me he has decided to become a Christian." "What did you do?" asked the father. "I turned to God for the answer," replied the Rabbi. "And what did he say?" pressed the father. "God said, 'Funny you should come to me...' "

It’s actually pretty funny when told right. It also says that you should take responsibility to actually raise your kid. But it’s also a Jesus joke in a way. I’ll let you decide if it’s funny or not. 

Marc continues: 

"There was something exotic about the language he used, the rich, almost mealy-mouthed yiddish inflections he peppered into his monologues, but most importantly... Yitz had the best Jewish jokes of anyone I've met to this day." 

Marc… You were RAISED by a rabbi. There should be nothing ‘exotic’. YOU SPEAK YIDDISH. 

"Now, let me back up for a second and establish something you've probably caught on to, Frenchie. There's nothing Jews find funnier than making fun of ourselves. As a guy who gave up on organized religion, I sometimes think of it as a weird byproduct of our pride in being "God's Chosen People" (Or at least according to the old testament). Like we can afford to take the piss out of ourselves because, in the end, we're going to be the one's ruling the roost." 

I…I have to take a minute to break down why this WHOLE PARAGRAPH is wrong. GAH. 

True, Jewish people love to poke fun at themselves. It’s a survival tactic. I once had it explained to me that it was laugh or cry and the Jewish people chose to laugh. 

I don’t see Marc as having ‘given up on organized religion’. This is a very common misconception when it comes to Moon Knight. If anything, Marc Spector epitomizes the essence of being Jewish. He very much still is aware of the culture, costumes, and often still shows that he understands. Time and time again in Moench and Zelentz he spoke Yiddish, he saved Jewish people, he stopped antisemitism, he rescued a Rabbi and Torah, he punched out Nazi scum. In MacKay, we see that Marc still knows Hebrew. He still knows the prayers. Jake speaks Yiddish! What’s happened is that Marc observes in his own way and while this doesn’t come across as being overtly religious, that’s the beauty of Judaism. You don’t have to go to a temple or synagogue. You can be at home and follow your own path. 

The term Organized Religion in itself is not a Jewish term! It’s Christian! There is no overall ruling power or singular organizer that keeps the rules or how things are done! 

Here’s the biggest issue! There is NO pride in being “chosen people”. That’s NOT WHAT THAT MEANS BEMIS AND YOU SHOULD KNOW BETTER. 

So, in Judaism, "chosen people" means that Jews are "chosen" to have extra responsibilities than other peoples. In terms of the covenants with G-d (basically, it's referring to circumcision, keeping kosher, etc). It means that the people have been chosen to make the world better. They can’t rely on anyone else. It is their responsibility to do their part! BUT Evangelical Christians interpret "chosen people" to mean "Special." Because Evangelicals believe that Jews are necessary for resurrecting Jesus. Which is where the “we’re going to be the one’s ruling the roost” phrase comes from. THAT IS NOT A JEWISH BELIEF. 

He says “Old testament.” There is NO Old testament in Judaism. Because there is no NEW TESTAMENT. That’s a Christian belief and teaching! It’s the Torah! And they aren't even organized the same way! 

They can afford to take the piss out of themselves because they have to! They humble themselves. They joke and make light of their situation. They say what they feel and think then laugh it off because they have to! 

And...While Marc is explaining this, we see young Marc watching a Seinfeld episode. 

Specifically it's the one where Dr. Whatley is suspected of wanting to convert to Judaism because he wants to make Jewish jokes. 

It's implying that converts aren't converting for good cause, but with a hidden agenda. 

We also see Moon Knight in certain Jewish and biblical settings as he explains things. 

"After all I've been through at the hands of one faith or another, I confess sometimes that makes me angry. But then I realize I'm caught up in the cycle itself just by having these thoughts. Inflation of ego, anger, shame...Just a cycle. One that runs on hatred. 

But at that point i didn't know anything about that. Jewish humor was just pithy and jolly, and I was proud to be in on the joke. " 

AGAIN. These are NOT Jewish ideals. Not Jewish teachings or beliefs! 

We see Marc expressing anger about being traumatized by religion and falling into a sort of cycle of inflated ego because he believed he was chosen! 

He talks about how it caused hatred and ego! BULL SHIT. It's humbling! When you take it into context, these teachings are MEANT TO BE HUMBLING! 

"Yitz was the Rabbi who taught my dad how to be one himself, so he was very much an uncle to me. I loved sitting in the corner of his office and listening to Yitz, Dad, and their friends rant about endless Jewish minutiae and debate its moral significance." 

No nonononononononono.

Absolutely not. 

"Being, unsurprisingly, a bit of a loner, I'd often go on adventures by myself through the bowels of our Synagogue, staving off dust allergies so I could pretend to be Indiana Jones. As if I'd, like, unearth some lost tablet that held the answers to all of life's questions and get rich. What I found, mostly, were obese mice.

I was a prepubescent kid who was more comfortable with a couple of Old Jewish Guys than I was with a single soul in my homeroom class." 

In these depictions, Marc is already an older kid. Judging from how he’s drawn here and in Lemire/Smallwood’s run, they look to be about the same age. 

We know that DID has to happen at a very young age from REPEATED horrible trauma. In Lemire’s run, we see Marc already HAS DID at this point, though it isn’t very obvious to him or his parents yet. They are already concerned about his behavior and he is already showing signs of being more than one person, even before we see him be introduced to Steven Grant. We also do know that Marc was a lonely child growing up. He played alone, didn’t have friends, and showed signs of behaving differently from the other children. 

How old do you think Marc is here? Cause he looks at least 8-10. And with the way he speaks and behaves, he has to be somewhere in that range, maybe closer to 10. 

Marc asks what the Shoah is and his father tells him that he’s too young to know. THen likens it to “The Sex Talk”. 

Not only that, but he doesn’t want to tell Marc about it. 

Elias says that his father was in a war, and that’s where he met Yitz. 

“The Shoah was part of a war. A big war. The biggest war. They called it a ‘world war’ Lots of people died. My dad died there. And my Mom had to move to America to get away from all the fighting, and that’s why we live here and not in Czechoslovakia…Not that I’m complaining.” 

NO. NO NO NO. That is NOT how you explain that. You do not casual World War 2. You do not casually explain the HOLOCAUST. ESPECIALLY not as a Rabbi talking to your own sun AT THAT AGE. He should already know about WW2. He should already know about the Shoah. He didn’t even explain it right. 

I’m sitting here sobbing. As a history buff that ESPECIALLY focuses in on this time period, I’m dying inside. I’m seething. 

He is downplaying the Holocaust. I can’t believe this. LOOK. OKAY. I get that this is a comic. It’s a comic that is rated T. I can understand (BITTERLY) if Marvel does not want to cover something as deep as- ….NO. ACTUALLY. NO I CAN’T. 

GO READ MAGNETO. GO READ CAPTAIN AMERICA. Magneto did a beautiful job of covering the Holocaust YEARS AGO. There is no right or reason to have to down play it like this. Bemis is just being a bigoted idiot that is trying to show his father as uncaring, Marc as being ‘special’ and unwell, and Jews in general as being cold! 

X-Men: Testament. Magneto

By Greg Pak and illustrated by Carmine Ci Giandomenico. 

Published in 2009. 

THIS is how you cover the Holocaust while still trying to be a comic set in the Marvel Universe. It is heartbreakingly beautiful and as honest as a comic can get coming from Marvel. GO READ IT IF YOU CAN. 

THIS… THIS IS NOT HOW YOU COVER THE HOLOCAUST.

No. Elias doesn’t get to look at him like that. It was a SHIT way to explain it. It was a shit thing that he just did there. He put Marc in that position and failed to teach him about his ancestors, his culture, his history, and the world in general. 

It’s not like there is a literal holiday set aside “DAY OF REMEMBRANCE” or that there is a literal prayer SPECIFICALLY WRITTEN for all those who died in the Shoah. And it isn’t like every Passover includes a paragraph ABOUT THE SHOAH. There is NO REASON Marc should not have an idea what the Shoah is. I’m so mad. I’m so mad right now. 

Oh! And then we immediately follow that up with a Greedy Jew Joke. 

Great. Fantastic. Why is Marc studying in the Rabbi office? 

He goofs off a bit more and they have fun. Marc asks Yitz if he can come by and study there again tomorrow while his dad finishes his work at home. 

Yitz tells him to come after seven. 

"I don't want to convey that I liked Yitz more than my dad. My dad was great. It's just that...Sometimes he wasn't all there. He would zone out sometimes and just...Disappear. Which is...Whatever. But when he got too deep into it, you'd see a flash of something. Something he knew. Something he felt... You'd get the suspicion something was upsetting him. Something he didn't want to discuss. He... Had a lot going on up there."

NOPE. You do not get to play this off like Elias was also mentally ill. 

While there IS a very small amount of research that may show that DID can be contributed to by a chemical imbalance in the brain that is hereditary and predisposes them a bit more towards becoming DID if traumatized... There is no proof and studies have not been conclusive or done enough! 

Or, perhaps, Bemis is implying that Elias knew about what was coming. WHICH IS EVEN WORSE. 

In Lemire’s run, Elias was caring. He wanted to help his son, though he went about it the wrong way. It was what was expected for that time and age. 

"I knew Yitz said to come by after Seven, and I was kind of embarrassed to show him how eager I was to hang out...Gotta play the cool kid... But I figured he'd be excited to see me, so it wouldn't matter." 

He finds Yitz's office locked so he decides to head down to the basement again to wait. 

He finds a trap door in the basement and of course he opens it up and falls inside. 

There, he finds Yitz in the dark.

"Oh, Marc. I said to meet me after seven, didn't I?"

If we follow the logic (logic. HA) that Marc doesn’t know what WWII is, what the Shoah is, or what happened, we can also follow that to mean that Marc doesn’t know what a Nazi is. He doesn’t know about antisemitism and he doesn’t know how to avoid danger or dangerous people.

That is a large room. To be hidden under a basement in a synagogue. And no one else knows it’s there? Bullshit. 

Also? Marc said that Yitz was a Rabbi that knew his grandfather and who also trained Marc’s father in how to be a Rabbi. This means he’s been a Rabbi for a LONG time. And not everyone just gets to be a Rabbi. It’s a PROCESS. A long process! 

I’m not posting the next pages. They are disturbing. 

"You must have so many questions. Most importantly, 'what is uncle Ernst doing with that dead boy hanging from the ceiling?' First... He's not dead. Though I was hoping to get that done before our meeting. Truthfully, you're a good sort and you've never been in any danger from knowing me. Until now, that is. Because you have learned. I'm not Uncle Yitz, but Uncle Ernst. Would you like to know how I knew your Grandfather, really?" 

He's torturing the hanging man during this speech. 

He babbles on for a while. Here's a summary: 

When the Nazi invaded, Marc's Grandfather tried to offer up information to the Nazi in an attempt to get his family out and to America. Apparently Ernst was the Nazi that Marc's grandfather pleaded with. Ernst saw that things were not going well in the war and that Hitler's end was coming. So he helped get the family out. In return, he asked to escape with the family. 

He disguised himself as "his long-lost Rabbi friend". 

Along the way, Ernst killed Marc's Grandfather so no one would learn the truth. 

Then he starts talking about how he was part of the Cabal (the people that made the Red Skull). They gave him enhancements too. 

"My Enhancement is more simple, more elegant. I discovered a method to elongate my life, so long as I sufficiently stimulate the dark, primordial pleasure center of my brain on a regular basis. And you see... What I enjoy most is killing Jews." 

Yeah so... We have a Nazi jew killer from Hitler run Germany who pretended to be a Rabbi????! 

This is propaganda. There are literally conspiracy theorists out there that believe that the Jewish people are hiding the Nazi. That they made it all up to hide the Nazi. 

Again, it takes SO MUCH to be a Rabbi. He had to study. He had to know All five books of Moses AND the Talmud and the history and teachings and language! There is NO WAY someone just stumbles their way through that. 

So this guy goes up to Little Marc and tells him about "what we accomplished together as a nation, less than a century ago. I will tell you of your 'Shoah'." 

Hmmmmnn…

And he tells Marc what his FATHER should have told him years before. 

About the Holocaust. It's a cliff note version of it. 

All of this is told over images of Marc enjoying his life with Marlene and Diatrice. 

It's told very matter of fact. 

About the trains, ghettos, camps, gas chambers, or of course Dr. Mengele (who, while famouse was not the worst of them). 

"It's the same world now that let it happen back then, Marc. It isn't crazy enough that it's impossible. People like me... We'll always be out there waiting to come back for you." 

SEE. THIS IS WHY HE SHOULD HAVE KNOWN ABOUT THIS BEFORE. He could have gotten the proper introduction. The history. THe proper order of things. The places, the Nazi propoganda war machine, and the Final Solution. It is important to know history so it doesn't happen again. NEVER AGAIN is what they are taught. 

But it also teaches them that there are Nazi and people like that out there in the world. It teaches them how to avoid these things. These people. Teaches them about the dangers of people out there that want them dead. 

This should not have traumatized him. This was fact. This was what he should have already learned about and dealth with. 

So, Little Marc gets pissed off and attacks the man, biting him, punching him, and scratching him. 

Marc gets away, but Ernst yells that if he tells anyone he'll come back for him. 

This is not what caused Marc's DID. 

This is a poor rendition of "Jew Trauma" story telling. 

This is a clear play down on the Shoah, a push to show a Nazi hiding as a Jew, and a cold responce to mental health and death. 

I hate this. Good thing it gets worse. So...much...worse... 

Anyways, Marc finishes his tory and Frenchie looks horrified. 

He thanks Marc for telling him. He tells Marc that he needs to eventually find a way to "explain your condition, your world, the complexity of it all" to Diatrice eventually. 

You see, Diatrice has been raised by Marlene. Marlene is NOT Jewish. 

Even with "Uncle Jake" stopping by to help raise her, as implied in the last volume... It is very VERY doubtful that she is doing raised Jewish. 

And we already know that Marc/Jake/Steven’s condition has been hidden from her.

I wish it ended there, though I dislike the use of telling her he's a kook. 

But of course it doesn't end there. 

"It's probably something that's been in my family for a long time. And I can't help it." 

Again, no proof that this is a hereditary thing. 

"And when I was little, I got scared very badly and, since my brain was wacky, it wound a wacky way to deal with being scared. I made friends like Uncle Jake and Uncle Steven to keep me company when I feel really lonely or upset." 

It…Isn’t a TERRIBLE way to explain things to her, depend on her age…. It’s not exactly accurate to how it works, but it’s a start for a young kid. 

But then we get Bemis doing a TERRIBLE call back. Because Marc didn’t do a bad job of explaining this! This was not world ending universe changing news! This was something she’d already run into and now had proper terminology for! She knew her dad was different! She knew about Uncle Jake and Steven! This isn’t the SHOAH.

I really…REALLY wish this was like an annual or something. That it was mentioned then never brought up again. I really REALLY wish they had dropped this story and gone and done something else… ESPECIALLY considering Issue 200 is coming up and it’s a big deal…. 

It isn’t. It. Keeps. Going. 

In the afterward we got whoever being like "Wow! What an intense issue! What a gut punch at the end!" 

I think it's the editor. Which is just... They thought this issue was deep and moving. 

That should tell you a lot about where this volume is going. 

This bread? It’s rotten. Send it back. 

Issue #195

This one is drawn by Paul Davidson. 

This...This issue? I hated it. I hated it so much. Not even the kind of loathing hate you saw in the last issue. This is just... I felt physically ill reading this one. 

Oh. Right. Paul Davidson. 

I...I hate this art. I hate it so much. 

What I don't get is that his art doesn't always look like this. 

Sometimes it's kinda nice and has a good flow with the story. 

But it's like they gave him Moon Knight and he went, "Insane guy right? Caricatures it is!" 

Okay so... I DO remember reading this issue. It immediately struck me as a hateful commentary on 'radical' thinkers, 'new age' people, and 'people trying to be socialites'. 

This is why it's drawn like cruel Caricatures. They want you to hate these people and look down on them and think they snooty and bad. 

It’s cropped like that because it just keeps going. 

I’m going to save you the trouble of reading that drivel and give you a summary: 

You see a leader telling them that The Collective is starting today. 

He wants to assess each "former individual". 

We have the artist. She name drops a famous artist then tells them she "collects real human skulls of deceased circus clowns". Uh huh. 

Then we have the "Aggressive romantic nihilist". He has a collection of jeans that he doesn't wash after sexual conquest. Hmm. 

There's the skeptic. She thinks everything needs doubt and states that she hates everyone so far. Cute. 

There's the fanboy? He likes the whole group and apparently stalked them online before they even met and made paper-mache busts of them all? Right. 

Then you have the leader who is conducting the experiment. 

His idea is that he wants to "Fuse our very personalities in defiance of our skin shackles and actualize pure socialism." 

WOW. So this is not just a cheap shot at mental health, DID in general, but it's ALSO a political shot at socialism. 

Fantastic. 

I'm so stoked for this disgusting journey we are about to go on. 

I’m going to put a pin in this for a second for some personal commentary. 

I’m Ace. I’m deeply uncomfortable when it comes to sexual depictions and situations. Especially in comics. There are comics out there that are sexual in nature and that’s fine! I don’t care. I know not to read those ones. I have nothing against the act, in people enjoying different things, different fetishes, and so on. In fact, I stand very firmly in the beliefs that as long as no one is getting hurt and everyone is consenting, you can enjoy whatever you want. That’s your right. 

So when I opened up this issue and was faced repeatedly with deeply uncomfortable situations, implications, and art meant to make fun of these people… Not to mention that it felt like they were trying to make the very act of fetishes ‘funny’ or ‘wrong’... This isn’t good comic book content. It really isn’t. 

I’m not going to show you all these pages because they really are disgusting and make my stomach sick. But I’m going to try to pick out a few that are not…the worst…

So now they're at a "secret A.I.M. Base." 

They have some technology that the main guy is paying them for access. 

Apparently his cousin works at the AIM facility as a member. 

"I spent most of my life being spoiled by my parents, drowned in trophies, diplomas, accolades, and doctorates. Yet, as long as I can remember, I've woken up feeling empty and mundane. I'm as much as one man can be on his own. Together, we could be...something more." 

Yeah... this is going to be a dunk on DID. I can feel it coming. 

"This machine creates psychic bonds". The idea is that it's going to fuse them. 

They all gather around the machine and it melts them into one horrible flesh thing. 

They spot the AIM worker hiding in the corner and tell him he looks Lonely and "you should join us". And they absorb him too. 

And just like that, we are back to NORMAL art. Proving that it was drawn like that originally on purpose to make us instantly feel disgusted and uncomfortable and hate it. 

This art right here? I like this. I love the sharp lines. The shading. The dull colors. I like the shape of the faces. I like the noses (I'm a nose person. I love the shapes of faces and the different noses!) 

....I'm not sure why they are all fishing and why Steven looks like he's in time out... 

Got a good look? Good because the art style is about to change again and we don’t see this style again. I…I don’t get it. Why go back. Why give us ugly and disgusting? Moon Knight should be beautiful. It should make you stop and look at a page for hours just wondering about how he got the oil slick on the street to look like that (still pining for Bill. Always loving Bill.) 

So we see the boys sitting on a rock above a boiling water in the mind scape and Marc is complaining that he's done with the meta human "freak market". He wants to take it back to street level with thugs and dirtbags. 

Jake tells him "good job on the not-killing-him thing." 

He's being sarcastic because he's pretty sure that Sun King is going to show up later to cause problems like they always do. 

"It's all good. Bushman and I are really getting to know one another. We exchanged numbers. I think we might start a bowling league." 

"Jake, you're by far the worst me." 

Hm. Once again the conflict on Marc vs. Jake is just...Not fitting in with their character at all. 

And Khonshu catches something on his fishing line. 

It's marlene's head and she looks pissed. She yells at him and it snaps him out of his inner world state. 

We see them at the movies with Diatrice and his phone is buzzing. 

Apparently there's a "Super-Crime alert" app. 

He checks it despite being in the theater, completely pissing off Marlene btw, and is more than a little disgruntled to find that it's not a normal problem. 

He gets up and heads out "I said no more weirdos. I SAID no more weirdos..." And it is Moon Knighttime. 

He arrives to find utter chaos. 

He locates two cops and asks where the thing is. 

I'm not pleased with this at all. 

"All right, where is the guy?" 

"It's against the law for me to tell you that." 

"Jerry, don't mess with that guy. It's that crazy one. He cuts people's faces off." 

OKAY. SO. Let me get into this a bit. 

ONE TIME one of the writers had Moon Knight come up against Bushman. He cut his face off and kept it like a souvenir. Literally no one was around to witness this. Yet it's always been a running gag about how insane he is and that he cuts off faces. 

Which... I hate that writer for doing it. It was funny at the time... But that was a long time ago and looking back at it, that run was just... It had problems.

I'm not mad at this art style some of the time. It's an interesting costume and I always enjoy seeing interpretations to his costume. 

Then we see the thing. 

It's pretty grosse. A giant writhing mass of blobby flesh with lots of faces and hands and eyes and teeth. why is it always teeth? 

And it has noticed Moon Knight and wishes to absorb him too. 

"I don't necessarily like that you know who I am." He is not thrilled about fighting this. 

"We are now composed of...At least 32 New Yorkers. Several of which are familiar with your history." 

"Would you, say, be willing to not be that?" 

It smashes up any darts tossed at it. 

It immediately turns to a security guard and sucks him in, absorbing him into the Collective. 

Ready for this?

Yeah. I'm so uncomfortable right now. 

Moon Knight pulls out two swords and slices and dices but it doesn't really do much. 

It manages to tackle Moon Knight and rips off his mask and starts to absorb him. 

I'm not showing you that picture. 

things go black and then we find Marc, Jake, Steven, and Khonshu in a dank cave like place. They head towards a lighted room and find this thing that haunts my nightmares. 

I'm going to show you this because it's really ALL I need to show you to hopefully make you understand WHY I hate this issue So. Very. Much. 

Art makes or breaks a comic people. But so does the writer who tells the artist what to draw. 

ALSO WHY IS THE ART STYLE SO INCONSISTENT?! 

Nnnhhh…. This is not a Dr. Strange comic. There should not be psychedelic imagery. And even this is a bit much for Dr. Strange, because at least that knows how to make sense of the chaos. 

There is a fine art to depicting chaos without overwhelming the audience. This isn’t it. 

Also, it’s VERY clear that this is supposed to be taking a jab at the hippy collective socialist mentality. 

And you 100% know that Bemis thought this up and went “They’re already a collective of DID! This is going to be super awesome to show them joining all these other minds and making sense of it and then getting rejected!” 

F@*&%&$ you Bemis. 

So that ends that issue. 

Great. Next bread please. Get me out of this house of moldy bread. 

Issue #196! 

Still Davidson. (SIGH) 

I hate this cover. I have this thing about depicting the brain so it looks like wormy spaghetti. It doesn't sit well with me. I hate it. You know what else I hate?

Yeah. Yeah… I’ll leave it alone for now. But I can’t stress how MUCH I hate this. 

So... Butterfly man gives them a tour of the collective consciousness. 

"And this is just the beginning. The human mind has an infinite capacity for diversification. Each new brain we add is another universe within us. So imagine that we keep adding infinity upon infinity every time we absorb someone..." 

Jake calls it. 

"That's a lot of personalities to deal with. What you've got here is an excess of personality. You realize it's taken my man Marc Spector 30 years to deal with a HANDFUL of identities? No wonder you're just attacking random people on the street. This place is out of control." 

No. I mean yes but I also mean no. 

A system is not always cool and collected. Sometimes there are disagreements, fights, and struggles for how things should run (and that's just the ones that are aware of themselves being a system). 

MARC is not the one keeping their system going. We know this. We've seen it time and time again. Marc is the stubborn ass-hole that keeps them moving. That keeps them doing what they need to do. But he'd work them to death to do what he does. 

Jake is the one that cools them off and helps build up their social life and handles the joy in life. Steven is the one that handles the self care, the management of the life that doesn't involve them breaking every bone in their body, and Steven is ALWAYS prepared to pull Marc to the back if things go too far. 

They take care of one another. They have their roles. 

Marc is NOT in charge. 

Just because writers don't know what to do with Jake and Steven and always throw Marc to the front (1990s onward. Moench knew exactly what to do with them), doesn't mean Marc is the man in charge. 

Well, Butterfly man says "That's where you come in, Mr. Spector. [....] I'm the de facto ruler of the collective, given that its idea was born of my thought process. But I'm just one man who never had much to say for himself outside of scientific ambition... Which is obviously adequately represented here. Someone needs to kick some butt around here to keep things in line."

So Khonshu and Steven reason that if someone takes charge on how to handle all the ‘personalities’ then the blob will stop going on a rampage. 

IS THIS AN ALLEGORY FOR D.I.D.?! Is that what Bemis is trying to do? Oh I hate this. 

Butterfly man points out that they are ‘the sum of all your thoughts and whims’ and this somehow manifests…. 

So.... We get a lot of different designs of Moon Knight. Skrulls and robots and more butterfly sorts and just... The thing Marvel does when it's trying to design a lot of weird designs. 

I’m just not impressed. There could be better designs and in this art, they are all just kinda hovering there doing nothing. 

And thus… "Moon Knights. Every you you've ever dreamed of. Now, what say we put them to work?" 

And Moon Knight goes on a therapy mission to try to fix all the parts of the collective brain universe. 

The Moon Knights resolve "the Oedipal complex, the Angst quotient, All suicidal and homicidal tendencies..." 

(the fact that they placed suicidal and homicidal together in the same spectrum is down right insulting). 

Also there's this... 

I don’t even know where to start with this one. I’m going to skip the obvious low hanging fruit of “False masculinity” that should have been called “Toxic masculinity”... And hit the fact that you can feel that Bemis doesn’t like Steven. He writes him as a wimp. He writes him crying all the time and as vain and clinging to Khonshu. He CLEARLY views Steven as useless except as eye candy or worse. 

(Not to mention we’ve seen Steven in a speedo before, Speeden as we lovingly call him, and Bill did a FAR better job.) 

So they go back to butterfly man to see how things are going, since they resolved so many of the collective's issues. 

They take a peak at the outside world and... 

I swear to all that is holy in the Moon Knight world...

There's an image of the blob huge and destroying things and what not. Under neath that is a list of emotions the blob is feeling: 

Rage 25%, Frustration 25%, Sexual Frustration 40%, inner peace 10%

They decide they need to figure out the core of all the bad emotions and Jake figures that it's the main control guy, the butterfly man. 

"All this judgment and messiah complex nonsense--You're kind of a @$#%, huh?" 

He denies it, saying "It's not the general sentiment around here" but some of the original collective pop in to tell him that they all think he is. 

Butterfly man freaks out, yelling about how none of this would be possible without his genius and blah blah blah

"You think the work you've done is so great? If it weren't for me locking away that sentient virus that's trying to drive the collective insane, things would be way worse!" 

And everyone stares at him and asks if that's true about the virus. He denies it. 

They restrain him while they decide to open the locked door and deal with whatever problem is hidden behind it. 

A bunch of weird goblin like Ork creatures come out in battle armor and tell them all to prepare to die or kneel before their leader. 

"One man should never control an entire world, Maurice, and no crappy aspect of someone's personality should define them. Trust me. I would know." 

Uh huh. It's ego. They're fighting ego. 

So we get some trippy art of all the Moon Knights fighting the goblin things mixed with images of the blob fighting the army and avengers in New York. 

UGH. 

"All right. You're weird little reign is over" they defeat the goblins. 

"It's Facism of the mind! Get Jungian with us and let go, Maurice!" 

UGH. "Jungian analysis is a psychoanalysis method to access and experience and integrate unconscious material into awareness." It basically is looking for meaning behind behavior, feeling, and events. It's CARL F-ing Jung. A psychologist  "The goal is to achieve psychological healing and wellness by aligning conscious and unconscious aspects of someone's personality". 

There are a lot of opinions about Carl Jung out there and I'm not going to get into that. But a lot of this doesn't go well with D.I.D. It has a lot to do with integration of the alters when applied to DID. ...I'm not going to get into that either, because it's a HOT debate in the DID community and I have no business poking that bear with that stick. 

So Butterfly man Maurice says "But...I just hate AND love myself so much!" 

Jake takes things into his own hands. 

"Steve, I don't really know the metaphysical implications of this, but given this guy seems to think he's what's holding this all together, I think it might help to just...Whack him in the face. Give him some perspective, ya know?" 

(WHY IS HE CALLING HIM STEVE?!)

(Why did the art style change again? Why did their designs change again?) 

The blob explodes in the real world. It's...it's disgusting. 

It starts to vomit up all the people like No Face from Spirited away. 

Marc sits there, covered in goo. "Well... That was a rough one." 

Khonshu reflects. "I wonder if the effects of the change Maurice made to his body will ever come back around again? Can he be contained?" 

The police hand cuff Maurice and put him in the cop car. 

"It really goes to show how someone's hang-ups can govern everything about them." Marc reflects to Khonshu. 

"Certainly a lesson well learned, Marc. For you, for me, for everyone." 

"He may be a horrible guy, but I hope some of the work we Moon Knights put in within the collective's mind-state affected his worldview." 

Oh thank you it’s over. 

And I have reached my 30 image limit again so this is a great place to take a break and a breather before we head into the final countdown of BEMIS. 

So this issue is a sort of filler. You see, it was a one off that has nothing to do with the over all arch. It’s designed to give us space between important plot issues so that we feel a sort of passing of time. We start with something that feels like it stands on it’s own. Then we get filler. Then we start what feels like a new plot but it always circles back around to that first issue. 

Which means… Things are about to get really really bad. 

This issue may feel kind of pointless and like a one off that had no meaning other than to play with the inner workings of MK’s mind… But it was done so badly. 

We’ve seen a good rendition of how it’s done in MacKay. When people attack him mentally, his system does what it is supposed to do and acts as a protective force, often bringing great pain and downfall to the people that dare set foot in his mind. 

We’re talking about a system that has worked HARD to build up such a force to fight these sorts of attacks that he’s practically immune to them. 

Now THAT’S interesting. The idea of a collective hive mind trying to absorb his militarized mind is a fantastic story to tell! It’s exciting! Why? Because you should see HOW the system has learned to function together. How they protect one another. How much of a UNIT these guys are after all these years. 

I also really hate that Bemis is trying to get psychological on us. Attempting to reference big names that honestly are so far out of date that he’s not even using them correctly anymore. 

And seeing the way he writes, you get the feeling that he is pulling the “I know more than you” ego attitude and is prepared to fight/argue anyone that dares to try to disagree with his take. 

Knowing how he has written things here, and seeing how he has handled Moon Knight’s D.I.D so far, this whole issue was just one big jab at their mental illness. It was supposed to be funny and action packed and get MEN (specifically men who read Chuck Palahniuk or who take the Punisher to be pro cops) to agree and get excited about the new edgy Moon Knight. 

This isn’t where he’s supposed to be. The story isn’t supposed to go like this. The characters are all falling so short that I can’t wait to see them all leave again. 

….We’re so close you guys. Just…Just a few more issues to go.

Part 4 HERE

[reverie-starlight]

Hi! I would love to participate in your 200 followers event if I may? I want to request: Yellow - by Coldplay with Kenma please :3 thank you so much! And congratulations once again! ❤️❤️

Love,

Suzy

AHHH yes ofc!! and ty :)  i’m so sorry this took so long, but it’s here and i hope you enjoy it <33

i literally looked up a chart of the stars in tokyo from april 2016 (it gave me a random year idk either) for this fic to make it as accurate as possible, but i realized that i don’t really know how to read a star chart so if you happen to know a lot abt stars and where you can see certain constellations, pls forgive me for any inaccuracies k thx <3

(...also if you follow my side blog, you’ll find that a couple of the constellations/stars i chose weren’t random and picked as a little haha moment) 

gn!reader, fluff fluff fluff, this might be one of my favourite things ever??

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

you know i love you so // look at the stars, look how they shine for you and all the things that you do

“c’mon, kenma! hurry up!” 

“i’m coming, i’m coming just hold on one second,” your boyfriend grumbled a few meters down the hill you were standing on top of. you ignored his teasing remarks about patience being a virtue. 

it was date night and you got to choose the activity this time. you tried to keep it a secret for as long as you could, appeasing your boyfriend’s worries with lots of don’t worry, you’ll like it i promise!’s throughout the week. 

but the second you pulled out your designated picnic blanket and told him to get in the car, he knew immediately what you had planned for the night. 

when he was finally closer to the top of the hill (which was located in a park about 45 minutes from your apartment, just outside the city, but the trip was made longer by you insisting on getting take out for the excursion), he looked up at you and took in a sharp breath.

the way the moonlight was hitting your skin, making your eyes shine brighter than usual, and the backdrop of the stars sparkling behind you... if he could take a mental picture and store it away to remember in perfect detail later, he would. he was in awe of your entire being. 

(which wasn’t exactly a new feeling for him, but it was definitely worth noting that it was ten times more intense in that moment.) he wondered everyday how he managed to get someone like you to love him as much as he loved them.

he watched as you turned around and started to set the blanket down brows furrowing at the wrinkles that remained. setting the pillows down in the middle, he helped you pull the corners further apart to make the fabric smoother. 

you beamed up at him and kissed his cheek before arranging the pillows and plopping down on top of one, grabbing the bag of take out and setting it out. he followed your lead and sat down with you, happily taking part in the conversation and munching on the food. 

after a while, you both laid back and stared up at the stars. “that one with the three lines spewing from the triangle is camelopardalis. and you see that really bright star off to the right of jupiter? that’s regulus. it’s part of the leo constellation.”

kenma was torn between falling asleep to the sound of your voice, looking at the stars you were pointing out or looking at you. he was certain that you’d pout if he fell asleep in the middle of your date, so he decided on splitting his time between the other two.

he really did admire the stars, even more so since he started dating you. whenever you went stargazing with him, you tried to make sure the stars would be in a different position so you could show him “a new sky every time” as you put it. 

“i know it must be boring for someone who doesn’t really stargaze as a hobby,” you said sheepishly on your second stargazing excursion, a few months after the first one but already a year into the relationship. “but i think that even if you’re not into it, you can’t deny that looking up at the night sky without any city lights is a beautifully surreal experience.”

being there alone might be more daunting to him than surreal, looking up and feeling so insignificant in the universe compared to the dark expanse of the clear night sky, but as long as you were there to look up with him, he agreed. he didn’t feel small. it certainly was surreal. 

because for some reason when you were apart, they didn’t shine as bright. even as a teenager when he would walk home with kuroo from late night practices, he didn’t remember them ever being so intense. 

he knew it was because of the light pollution that came with being in the city, but he did also consider the possibility that it was all because of you. 

you, who could convince him to get out of the city for moments like these, moments where the stars actually would appear brighter because of something you did. 

you, who definitely deserved the stars’ best performance- you were special enough in his eyes and he hoped whatever higher power had your favourite pass time in their domain saw it too. 

you, who lit up his world like the stars lit up the night sky.

you, you, you...

“i love you,” he interrupted what you were saying completely on accident. he hadn’t meant to let it slip, but he couldn’t help it after seeing the reflection of the moonlight in your eyes again. the excited look on your face as you kept naming stars and constellations. 

you turned to face him, a shy expression appearing. 

a small smile formed on his lips. 

“i love you too, kenma.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

the ending is a bit bleh but other than that, i really like this one. 

[anotherhumaninthisworld]

On her French wiki it says that Theroigne de Mericourt held a salon that Saint-Just (as well as Camille) attended. I’ve also seen in other websites regarding her that either right before or right after Theroigne was sent to an asylum she wrote a letter to Saint-Just. Do you know how based on fact either of these events are? And do you know anything else about Theroigne and Saint-Judy’s relationship? I knew her and Camille were friendly but I never heard about her and Saint-Just until I saw that on wiki and got curious. Thank you!

I found the following letter from Theroigne to SJ cited in A woman in the revolution: Théroigne de Méricourt (1911). It is dated July 26 1794 and was found among Saint-Just’s papers after his death:

Citizen Saint-Just, I am still under arrest. I have lost precious time. I have written to you to beg you to send me two hundred livres, and to come and see me. I received no reply. I do not feel much gratitude towards the patriots for leaving me here, bereft of everything. It seems to me that they ought not to be indifferent that I am here, and that I am doing nothing. I sent you a letter in which I say that it is I who said I had friends in the palace of the Emperor, that I was unjust as far as Citizen Bosque was concerned, and that I am sorry about it. They told me that I had forgotten to sign the letter. That was want of attention on my part. I should be charmed to see you for a moment. If you cannot come to me, if your time does not permit it, could I not be accompanied on the way to see you ? I have a thousand things to say to you. It is necessary to establish the union; it is necessary for me to develop all my plans, to continue to write as I have written. I have great things to say. I can assure you that I have made progress. I have neither paper, nor light, nor anything; but even then it would be necessary that I should be free to be able to write. It is impossible to do anything here. My stay has taught me something, but if I remain longer, if I remain longer without doing anything, without publishing anything, I should learn to despise the patriots and the civic crown. You know that there has been discussion, both about you and me, and that the proof of union is in the results. There must be fine writings to give strong impulses. You know my principles. I am grieved never to have spoken to you before my arrest. I presented myself at your house. They told me that you had moved. It is to be hoped that the patriots will not leave me a victim to intrigue. I can still repair everything if you will aid me. But it is necessary that I should be where I shall be respected, for they neglect no means of showing contempt for me. I have already spoken to you of my plan. Whilst waiting until this can be arranged, until I have found a house where I can be safe from intrigue, where I can be worthily surrounded by virtue, I beg that they will send me back home. I shall be under a thousand obligations if you will lend me 200 livres. Farewell.

Besides that, there does however not appear to exist much tying the two together. I found several books where Saint-Just was included on a list of people who would frequent Théroigne’s salon (1, 2, 3) but none of the authors cited a primary source for it. Camille was him too included on all these lists (and, according to Jules Claretie, was rumured by some authors to even have been Théroigne’s lover) but similarily, the only connection I’ve found between them is Camille praising Théroigne and transcribing one of her speeches in number 14 Révolutions de France et de Brabant…

[lv-iceprince]

~about me🫧

so since I have now passed 200 followers i feel like i need to actually introduce myself. against popular belief i am not a robot 🙃 without further adieu here is...me?

this is a bad description of me but this will have to do until i have more time.

online alias~ wren

real name~ ty

age~ 23 (24 on the 12th of october)

gender~ dude

nationality~ australian

race~ indigenous australian, tongan and scottish

mbti~ entj-t

hogwarts house~ slytherin

occupation~ creative industries music student and a pending foreign language student

hobbies~ i actually have too many hobbies because i'm such a perfectionist i dance, sing and produce, but i absolutely love photography and art. i'm a water colour artist and i spray paint. i''m into studying and knowing as much as possible, i'm a gym junkie but i am also such a nerd for videogames, science and visual novels.

extra facts~

i nearly die a lot, it's kind of normal for me (so far i've nearly died 22 times)

i have 3 pet rabbits and 3 pet cats but my cat vanya is my favourite

i am the best chef fr

i know the languages i know now because i tried to go online and get a foreign girlfriend or boyfriend~ it didn't work :')

i slipped as a kid and nearly cut my eye out but now i have this awesome scar

i'm a radio trainee but i still need to actually finish my training

i was a horror writer since i was six years old but it wasn't until after my writing hiatus that i started to write smut and romance

apparently i stand like hyunjin from skz?

i used to be a soprano in a youth choir

i was a film student for 3 years

my mum is training me to be an assistant florist so i can fund my music career

i have resting dead behind the eyes face

i once got checked out and air fingered by hyunjin at a concert and that is my proudest moment

i know 8 languages to various degrees but i am studying more language so i can be more fluent

i play the piano

i nearly joined a religious cult

besides kpop i am like really into david bowie, prince and michael jackson and i am a guilty lana del rey casual listener, i also like troye sivan, barkada, beyonce, jonas brothers, atarashii gakko!, metro boomin', miley cyrus, chase atlantic, disney music, some musical stuff but not a lot, conan gray, grant knoche, joji, lil uzi vert, finneas, pinkpantheress, ayesha erotica and any other hoe slut cunty energy artists

biases~

stray kids... felix and hyunjin

ateez... hongjoong and mingi

txt... soobin

monsta x... hyungwon

twice... momo and jeongyeon

seventeen... mingyu, woozi, scoups and jun

ive.. liz and gaeul

newjeans... hanni

gfriend... umji

nct... mark, jisung, haechan and jaemin

itzy... yuna

p1harmony... soul and jiung

enhypen... jay and heeseung

[mommytauriel]

Hi everyone! I just wanted to make a small post explaining why I haven’t been posting as much. I’ve just had a lot going on, mostly due to my health and stress. I’m okay! I just cant really find the time to focus on writing. I miss it and hopefully I’ll be back to posting writings soon! Thank you all for being so nice and supportive!! I love you all <3

ALSO OMG TY ALL FOR 200 FOLLOWERS 🥹💕

[dojae-huh]

https://twitter.com/fs_sf_fs/status/1777342440891953192?t=qM-SUo2LzxnG9ZsauszTNw&s=19

So his original plan was just to, eating nd going around with doyoung, chatting....etc......but the company made it more like a veriety show interview where they could bring guest nd ask abt their upcoming activities!!! Haha..... That's funny.... What haechan wanted was a relaxation, just enjoying the eating with doyoung's company, he picked doyoung coz of their reaction over foods so ppl won't get really bored just see them eating... Nd yes if it is harchan nd doyoung ofcrs they fight nd it is kinda fun to watch... But now it become more serious job, like its ok if the guests are from nct, or the person they already known.... But the guests coming from outside of the bubble makes it more visible.. The epi with minhyung, like they did well but the awkwardness was visible, minhyung was not shy seeing strangers for the first time was a plus point in that episode... I'm not criticizing, it is a great opportunity for them to make new frnds nd also a new path... Since 127 is going on a hiatus.... Nd ofcrs doyoung nd haechan were enjoying it and also doing a good job this far... But I'm just wondering how would it be it for just 2 of em to go on a show... Like of ot was only dy nd hc would it be as successful as it is now?! Just wondering!! What is ur thought on this!!

Link

Haechan and Doyoung eat out together a lot as it is. More like, Haechan wants a programme for himself. In the past he pitched the idea about Haechan's radio, that one lasted for some time.

Mokchu is low budget. There are only 2-3 staff members at the location, maybe, plus editors at SM. To attract non k-pop fans or non-NCT fans a restaurant-review show should have a better camerawork (i.e. cameramen at the shooting location), lighting, sound. Just look at Heechul's drinking show Do attended. There were like 10-12 staff members on the side, sitting in two rows. There is a big competition as there are many mukbaeng shows.

Therefore, I get why SM turned it into a more common format (hosts+guests). 2Dongs can shoot episodes with only two of them anytime later, as specials. I'm more concerned about another member replacing Haechan and later Doyoung. That will be a bigger deviation from the original plan, even more like work instead of doing something the two enjoy.

Fans tend to watch mostly content with their faves. And not all of them do. Even such a popular member like Taeyong gets 200-300k views for his TY vlogs. (Although I do believe that YT doesn't count many views, maybe from those who use adblocks). Therefore, I think 2Dongs show would have been watched only by their fans.

This show is a good practice though. The episode with Minhyung showed that both 2Dongs are not very good with dealing with new to them people in a situation without a prepared script, where they can rely on a professional role and don't need to decide how they should act (be more polite/be more friendly). Haechan can't even be his cheeky self (which he plays easily on variety shows). And Doyoung can't be MC easily (because their show doesn't have a structure, rules to follow, yet).

[squidsandthings]

List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox for the last 10 people who reblogged something from you. learn to know your mutuals and followers. 💚🤎 No pressure btw :}

Aww hihi here's my list :D

1. My Cats (+ My Friend's Cats)

I love my chaos goblins they bring me endless joy and entertainment and they know all my secrets. My cats are my everything even when they eat the foam insulation off my pipes.

2. Dungeons and Dragon's (all my 200+ dice)

I love DND. It's my favorite hobby. Making character, playing in games, impulse buying dice, all things that bring me incredible joy. I love the game I love giving my characters unspeakable trauma it's great. My bank account hates my dice goblin energy tho.

3. French Horn (occasionally)

This instrument will be the death of me lmao. I love horn, and I've been playing for 6(ish) years. It's one of those things that frustrates me to no end, but when my practice pays off and I actually play music good nothing makes me happier. I love horn, I love listening to other horn players, it's a silly, immensely frustrating, super cool, instrument and having the opportunity to play horn as much as I do makes me immensely happy.

4. Drawing :DD

I am not a very good at art person lmao. But I really like doing digital art it's really fun! I like having the ability to make content about my favorite characters or just express an idea i have in a more creative way. Also doodling is just fun lmao.

5. Geese

There was Geese outside my lecture hall today! I love them.

ty for the askkk :DDDD

[winniethewife]

heyyy girlieee on 200✨✨💅

🔮

Moodboard pleasee Ty✨❤️💕

also your new theme is SLAYING love the neutrals it’s giving romance anime girl who works at an adorable cafe and suddenly Jon levy or moon boys or whoever comes in and you guys meet for the first time and he asks if he can take you to dinner later ✨

Thank you Love! I am very happy with it! And I hope you love the mood board. Made it Swiftie Just for you ! <3 <3 <3

Celebrate 200 followers with me